The Cost
by Whimsical Juju
Summary: "You don't want to know what it's cost to put you next to him." - General Shepherd.


I could hear light footsteps, growing ever closer. I shivered, partly from fear, partly from the cold. Russian winters were bleak, with temperatures dropping below zero. Hope was bleak too, for someone caught double-crossing Vladimir Makarov. That's what happened to me.

Which is why I was tied to a chair, blindfolded, concussed, hurting in places I didn't know I had and slowly going out of my mind.

I knew what they were doing. I'd studied different torture and interrogation methods before I was assigned this mission. When taking a psychological approach, you take away all sensory stimulation, leave your target in a dark and soundless room and they slowly become terrified, paranoid and even suffer from extreme anxiety. The paranoia generally helps keep them awake as well, resulting in sleep deprivation which only serves to help the interrogator further.

That was only the beginning of what the Ultranationalists had done to me. And even though I knew how to counteract most of it, it was all theory work.

This was the first and last time I'd ever be captured by the enemy. After this, I was a dead man.

The footsteps came to a halt nearby. I flinched at the gentle click of a lock. The door swung open with barely a sound and the soft footsteps came towards me. I didn't need the use of my eyes to know that it was Makarov himself; none of the other Russians walked with as much grace and confidence as that man.

I quickly schooled my expression into neutral. I couldn't let him gain the upper hand any more than he already had.

"Hello, Mikhail. But that isn't your real name, is it? You were very sneaky, very clever. I almost didn't realise you were the wolf in our midst." Makarov paused, and I heard a rustle of clothing. "But you made a fatal mistake. Are you aware of what it was?" Of course I knew what I'd done. I thought I was in the safe zone and got sloppy.

Makarov ripped off my blindfold and dropped a stack of paper in my lap. I winced at the sudden amount of light that attacked my retinas after so much time spent in darkness. It took a few moments for my eyes to adjust, but when they did I recognised the files in my lap instantly.

I forced myself not to react.

"It's a shame you left these out in the open. For you, anyway. I found this information quite interesting," He remarked. I hated him, I hated everything about him. I hated how he could act so calm and unfazed as if he hadn't been spied upon for weeks and months and –

_Thud._

I spat out a glob of blood and saliva, papers scattered around my body as I lay on my side on the floor, still tied tightly to the chair. My face throbbed harshly and I was sure I felt a tooth loosen where Makarov punched me. I felt the inside of my mouth with my tongue, noting two loosened teeth. My tongue was sensitive and bleeding where I'd accidentally bitten it.

A clean pair of black dress shoes stepped into my line of sight. Makarov bent down, one knee touching the cold hard cement that my head rested against. He tilted his own head slightly, watching me.

It took everything I had not to just spit in his face then and there.

"Did you really think you would get away with this?" He demanded, scooping up a few papers and throwing them at me. Mismatched eyes drilled into me furiously. But for all his anger, he never once raised his voice. He remained quiet, anger simmering just beneath the surface.

I glared back at him, still refusing to speak a word to the Russian Ultranationalist.

"Did you honestly think that I would allow you to walk free after selling me out to the Americans?" He hissed. The way he kept his voice down made me wonder. Didn't he want anyone to hear what was happening? Did anyone know what was happening? I pushed my thoughts down as Makarov shifted, standing up to his full height. I watched warily, trying to predict his next move.

One of the most disturbing things about Vladimir Makarov were his eyes, one an intense blue, the other a dispassionate green. Both cold and unyielding. And with those eyes staring at me, combined with the look of unadulterated loathing, I knew there was no way I would ever live beyond this day. I knew before that I was quite possibly going to die for my actions and loyalty to the American government, but now I was absolutely certain.

And Vladimir Makarov would make damn sure that no one ever knew what happened to me, either. I would be just another name engraved on a war memorial, if I was lucky.

Makarov swung his foot at my torso, landing a solid kick to my rib cage. I choked on blood as I attempted to draw in a ragged breath and block out the sudden flare of pain that accompanied the sickening _crack _of broken bones. A coughing fit wracked my body, blood and spittle flying from my mouth.

Makarovs' lips curled in disgust as some of it landed on his otherwise pristine shoes. I felt a bit of vindictive pleasure at that, but kept up my pained/neutral expression. The Russian bastard always was rather meticulous about the state of his clothing.

"You disgust me. Your lax behaviour in regards to your own mission will not only be the death of yourself, but the next undercover agent to come, and hundreds of others. You are pathetic." He stated disdainfully.

I watched on apathetically, quietly resigned to my fate, as he drew an M9 handgun, aim directly between my eyes. His hatred for all of America shone through in one facial expression, and I couldn't help but think of his message to its leaders.

"_The world has been your battlefield. Everywhere you go, the blood of brothers and sons scream out against you. Perhaps you cannot yet hear it, because this soil is not your own. But you will...you will._"

Maybe he was right.

_Bang._

_...  
_

_"You don't want to know what it's cost to put you next to him."_

_...  
_

**The quote at the end is from the "Infamy" trailer, and is said by Vladimir Makarov. General Shepherd's quote in the summary and at the end is from his last speech to Joseph Allen.**

**"The Cost" can refer to what it took to get Allen in, the cost of screwing up, the cost of war, etc. Interpret it however you want to.  
**

**Feedback would be very much appreciated :)  
**


End file.
